Брайан Макклеллан - Wrath of Empire

“You’re getting posh in your old age.”

Vlora opened one eye and glanced sidelong at Taniel. “And you’re still just a bit of a smug asshole, you know that?” There was more bite in her words than she’d meant, but she let them stand.

Instead of getting angry, Taniel laughed. “I won’t argue that. You and Dad were really the only ones that ever seemed to notice.”

“Everyone noticed. But they were scared of either you or Tamas. That famous family temper. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen it come out since you resurfaced.”

Taniel’s smile disappeared, his forehead creased. “I don’t want to be my father.”

Vlora bit back a remark. Taniel had fled from his father’s legacy, faking his own death. Vlora had embraced that legacy and become the renowned general – but at the end of the day she didn’t have Tamas’s political skills to deal with the Adran government. Coming here with a mercenary army had been her own sort of running away, so calling Taniel out on his seemed more than a little hypocritical.

Vlora let the silence stretch, taking in the city. It was much dryer up here in the mountains than it had been in either Landfall or the Tristan Basin, and she was glad for it. The heat was more bearable, too, but she imagined the bugs would be just as bad come nightfall.

“I’m going to go for a … walk,” she said, eyeing a nearby bar. “Get the bearings of the city.”

“Good thinking. I’ll do the same.”

They split up, heading in different directions down the street. Vlora waited until she was out of sight and ducked into one of the dozens of bars that seemed so prolific along the main thoroughfare. It was barely a building – not much bigger than a good hotel room with three tables and a single barkeep pouring drinks for the miners heading toward or coming back from the hills.

She ordered a beer and took a seat facing the open door, watching the faces pass her in the street, and put her feet up on the chair opposite to discourage company. The beer was terrible, but it was cold, and she downed it quickly and went for another. It took a lot for a powder mage to get drunk, but she wasn’t looking for that – just the slightest buzz to take the edge off the soreness from a week in the saddle, and a week with Taniel.

She wondered why it bothered her so much. They’d parted on good terms, and she hadn’t seen him for ten long years. In the years since, she’d thought long and hard about whether she had any residual feelings for him, and decided it wasn’t that, either.

Perhaps it was because they’d been practically siblings before becoming lovers. Taniel and Tamas had saved her from the streets and given her purpose, and Taniel had been her closest friend and confidant. She wondered if there was a part of her that wanted that back. Taniel’s murky ambitions, and her own growth over the last decade, made that an impossibility.

Vlora’s contemplations – and her fourth beer – were cut off by a figure passing through the street outside the bar. She frowned, tilting her head to the side and glancing at the glass in front of her. She almost ignored the figure, but curiosity got her to her feet and out onto the stoop. She caught another glimpse, and hurried along the walkway to try and get another one, pausing for a moment at the next intersection as the figure finally turned to give her a view.

It was a tall, distinct-looking woman with the shoulders of a boxer and long brown hair in a ponytail. She carried a blunderbuss casually on one shoulder and the right side of her face was reddened by an old blast wound that left her eye milky white. Vlora was certain she knew the woman, yet hesitated for long enough that her quarry slipped down a side alley.

Vlora hurried across the street and turned down the alley, only to come face-to-face with the flared muzzle of a blunderbuss. “Follow me one more step and I will blow your … Vlora?”

“I’ll be damned,” Vlora said, raising her hands, open palms outward. “It is you. How are you, Little Flerring?”

“ You’ll be damned? By Adom, Vlora, what the pit are you doing in Yellow Creek?” Flerring lowered the blunderbuss and thrust a hand toward Vlora, which she shook happily.

“It’s a long story, but I could ask you the same thing.” The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Taniel, who stepped into the alleyway behind Flerring, his sword drawn. Vlora turned to him sharply. “Were you following me?”

“I was just trying to catch up.”

“I thought we’d split up for the night?”

Taniel stared at Flerring, clearly unwilling to say more in front of her. He eyed her blunderbuss for a moment before putting up his sword. He did not answer her question.

Flerring looked back and forth between Vlora and Taniel, finding herself boxed in, and scowled at Taniel. “Who the pit is this? Aren’t you still with Olem?”

“It’s not like that,” Vlora explained, gesturing Taniel to join her. He slipped past Flerring and came to stand beside Vlora. He leaned in, speaking in a whisper that only she could hear.

“So you know each other?”

“We do,” Vlora said. “She’s a longtime contractor for the Adran Army.” She smiled reassuringly at Flerring and said in a low voice, “Should we tell her who you are?”

“You trust her?”

“Yes.”

“Then go ahead.” Taniel shrugged, dropping the whisper. “Your men already know. Word will get out eventually that I’m still alive.”

“All right.” Vlora spoke up. “Little Flerring, this is Taniel Two-shot.”

Flerring scoffed. “No shitting?”

“No shitting,” Taniel said, offering his hand.

Vlora continued. “Taniel, this is Little Flerring. She makes powder. She sold the Adran Army enough gunpowder to get us through the Kez Civil War, and then some.”

Flerring took Taniel’s hand. “Two damn powder mages out here on the frontier. Adran powder mages, and one of you is supposed to be dead. What are you doing here?”

Taniel whispered softly, “You’re sure you trust her?”

“I do,” Vlora responded. “She’s an Adran hero after the Kez Civil War, and we worked together closely.”

“You better trust her,” Taniel said, still in a whisper, “because it’s here.”

“The stone?”

“Yes. I sensed it moments after we split up. I’ve been trying to find you to tell you. It’s definitely here, but I don’t know where. We might need help finding it.”

Vlora had no idea why Taniel could sense the thing and she could not. It probably had something to do with Ka-poel’s sorcery. But confirming it was actually here was the first step in their mission. “Flerring,” she said, “do you have somewhere we could talk?”

Michel spent nearly a week following Marhoush before finally losing patience.

He and Tenik sat on the rooftop of an abandoned store about a block from the cobbler’s, where their target had been holed up this entire time. It was a blisteringly hot afternoon, the roofing tar sticking to the bottom of their shoes, but Michel wanted the vantage point to be able to see down into the street both in front of and behind Marhoush’s hiding spot. He sat near the edge of the flat roof, hidden behind a cluster of chimney stacks, and watched the street while he and Tenik sweltered.

A week, he knew, was a long time. There’d been two other bombings. A perpetrator had been caught after the second, but she’d managed to commit suicide before being questioned. Michel had recognized the body as that of a Bronze Rose who worked for je Tura.